


Enough to the soul

by satans_dolly_boy666



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Abuse, Abusive Relationships, Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Angst, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Bad Decisions, Bad Parenting, Denial of Feelings, Depression, Drugs, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Extremely Dubious Consent, F/M, Fatherhood, Feelings Realization, Friendship, Grief/Mourning, Heavy Angst, Hurt, Implied/Referenced Abuse, Implied/Referenced Cheating, Implied/Referenced Domestic Violence, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, Implied/Referenced Suicide, Insecure Sherlock Holmes, Internalized Homophobia, John-centric, M/M, Male-Female Friendship, Multi, Near Death Experiences, POV John Watson, POV Mycroft Holmes, POV Sherlock Holmes, Parent Sherlock, Rape/Non-con Elements, Sad, Self-Acceptance, Self-Esteem Issues, Self-Harm, Self-Hatred, Sherlock Holmes Has Feelings, Sherlock Holmes and Drug Use, Sherlock Holmes and John Watson are Parents, Sherlock is a Good Parent, Sherlock-centric, Unhealthy Relationships, Violence
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-03-13
Updated: 2019-06-30
Packaged: 2019-11-16 11:47:01
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 15
Words: 6,772
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18093704
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/satans_dolly_boy666/pseuds/satans_dolly_boy666
Summary: Everything happens after Mary's death.John refuses to see the truth and to cope with his new life, he simply starts bad habits. One of them is drinking, and another one is being a complete jerk and a bad friend.





	1. THE BEGINNING OF MOURNING AND ANGER.

**Author's Note:**

> This is not my first time writing fanfiction but IT IS the first time that I publish something online. I decided to make my debut with a Sherlock story! I hope the fandom is n´t dead....yet ...  
> I started watching BBC Sherlock in 2017, but I consider myself a big fan of the original Sherlock's stories of Arthur Conan Doyle before the show.
> 
> PLEASE PLEASEEE Be patient with me, my English isn´t good but it´s not bad either?! English isn´t even a second language to me but a foreign language! I´ll appreciate any correction of my horrible grammar mistakes or any bad translation (I don´t use online translators but when I write, I tend to think in my first language instead of "thinking in English" ...I don´t know if I´m making myself clear but whatever haha)
> 
> I warn you, don´t read this story if you are sad or depressed or idk just don´t do it. 
> 
> I enjoy watching/making Sherlock suffer (sorrynotsorry) because his vulnerability attracts me more than I want to... also Dark!John here.

_-John´s speaking-_

**Mary had died.**

My late wife, the mother of my beloved and only daughter, Rosie Watson. That woman knew how to control me and how to manage my character.

A funny and clever woman she was.

She was no longer present in my life and everything began to be pure **torture**.

I still remember the day she died since everything changed drastically. She was in my arms begging to take care of our daughter when she is gone.

_And then she was gone._

I looked at Sherlock directly in his eyes with my tears still falling out and with an inexplicable pain.

It was his entire fault. 

My wife was a liar and a murderer and I probably didn´t know her completely. Nor her secrets and past but still, she was my wife and I forgave her for everything she has done.

But Sherlock…

Everything always has to do with _him_.

The so-called sociopath, a rude moron submerged in his own world.

I couldn´t contain my anger when I hit him that day at the morgue; so, I hit him as many times as I wanted to.

I tried to move away and to isolate myself from Sherlock and everyone else. I even made it clear that my daughter shouldn´t be close to _that person_. She didn´t deserve it; she didn´t deserve to be near her **mother's killer**.

But there was an unexpected change in the events, and Sherlock came back to my life again.

Mary gave her last case to the detective, and he decided to take the risks necessary to finish it.

 **"Save John Watson"** ...

To save me? Why? She was my saviour and now she wasn´t longer here anymore. She saved me from madness when Sherlock faked his suicide, those years would´ve been _dark years_ without her.

In the end, realizing that Mary would never have wanted my friendship with Sherlock to end, **I decided to go back to Baker Street**.


	2. THE BEGINNING OF THE BLAME

_-Sherlock´s speaking-_

Mary was a surprising woman. She was a surprise even for me since the beginning was difficult for me to unmask her secrets.

I expected her to be one of the many _basic_ women John dated before but Mary was different from them all. She had a good sense of humour, she understood how to handle John's temperament and, above all, **she did not judge me**.  All the others were always jealous of my relationship with John but Mary enjoyed our presence and to be all together.

She is one of the few women that I consider important to me in many aspects of my life... at least, _she was_ ; I should mention **“The Woman”** , my **mother** and **Mrs Hudson** as well.

Mary was the perfect _balance_ between _John and me_ ; she was a highly skilled and intelligent assassin but a nice **friend** as well.

After her death, John's gaze to me began to be different. At first, I recognized _confusion_ , then _sadness_ and finally **anger**.

John decided to forgive me but I knew he had done it only because Mary had wanted it so.

Mary had saved me even after her death. Ironic, to die for an irritating **sociopath**.

Once John returned to 221B Baker Street, his habits were too drastic to measure. John began to work all day, while he immersed himself in the comfort of sex and alcohol at night. But I could not blame him at all since he was still _mourning_.

Meanwhile, something else has changed in our lives since now, **little Watson** was here.

 Animals and children are strangers to my Mind Palace; they are beings with similar behaviour patterns: too _fragile_ and _innocents_ for my liking.

I knew that although John said it was not my fault for his wife's death, **he still blames me**. And I agree with it because it was undoubtedly my fault. 

John could have had a beloved family and a monotonous and normal life until I decided to return from my "death". Maybe it was true that John is not the type of person who enjoys living an ordinary life, but what I am certain of is that _at least he would not have suffered_.

I decided to do the only possible way to compensate for his pain, and that is when I began to take care of her daughter without complaints.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Second chapter~  
> :s


	3. LOST

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Johny boy is a mess.

_-John´s speaking-_

I'm completely lost. My life is a mess and my mind is destroyed by memories.

I started having **nightmares** again. This time they´re not nightmares about when I was a soldier; nor were nightmares about the suicide of my best friend.

I started dreaming about _Mary_. We were in a desolate room, both seated face to face. She smiled at me and then something happens.  Sherlock appears behind Mary pointing at her chest and she began to bleed.  I panicked but I couldn´t get out of the chair to help her.  Mary collapses and Sherlock takes the chair instead. Then he smiles… _a bitter and almost melancholy smile_.

The image of Mary being murdered by Sherlock follows me every night.  I couldn´t endure it anymore, and my only way out is to work, work and more work, casual sex and to drink until I remember nothing else.  

I forgave Sherlock but **I knew I was lying to myself**.

I started to ignore him. I decided that to ignore was far better than getting angry with him again.

I knew Sherlock wasn´t in a condition to be attacked again. He still had to recover from the bullet that my late wife had caused, my own beatings to him in the morgue, the result of drug abuse and the choking (and almost murder) in the hospital.  

But I also knew that if he was healthy, I wouldn´t hesitate to **physically release my pain and anger to him**.  So I try not to think about it.

But… I not only was I neglecting my best friend, but I was also neglecting my own daughter.

 _Rosie_ , my little baby.  I promised Mary to take care of her but either way, I'm working or drinking at a bar, therefore I don´t see her very often. **She´s continuously in Sherlock's care all the time.**

It´s a contradiction, isn’t?  At first, I didn't want to leave Rosie in the hands of the one responsible for her mother's death and now she´s in his care at all times.  At first, I doubted if my own daughter should be close to Sherlock since he´s the least indicated person in terms of care, health and wellbeing.

One thing was for sure; both Sherlock and I know that it wasn´t an option that something bad happens to Rosie.

 _The contract of our friendship_ was now due to one thing: **Rosie should be the priority, and Sherlock knows it well.**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> :D


	4. WORRY

_-Mrs. Hudson’s speaking-_

Something had changed between Sherlock and John since Mary's death. Now when they´re together, you can feel the **tension** in the air.  

John wasn´t longer seen in the flat very often but the bottles of drinks in the kitchen cupboard gave me a clear conclusion that he started drinking. What a pity. Alcohol addiction isn´t easy to deal with, I had my own experience since I was in the same situation as John. Even so, in mourning or not, his behaviour was unacceptable.

One day I went to visit Sherlock as how I usually do, this time with some freshly homemade biscuits and his favourite tea.

Sherlock looked extremely thin, the bags under his eyes clearly indicated that he hadn´t slept well for days and his overall appearance was untidy and almost **pitiful**. I made my concern clear. _He needs to rest no matter what_.

But I could also notice something different in him. Since Sherlock moved to Baker Street, he has always been careless about his health. That´s a fact. But this time, he wasn't the same, with his usual arrogant and childish attitude. 

 **He looks calm**. **And a calm Sherlock Holmes isn't a good sign**.  The sounds of bullets were no longer heard (when he gets bored he uses the gun as a toy... my poor wall) and his experiments seemed to be untouched from a very long time.

Sherlock is now more focused on _Rosie_. One day I saw him reading a book about childcare ... it was weird but sweet at the same time. Sherlock spends all the time feeding Rosie, changing diapers, bathing her, and even playing with her. It´s definitely a new side of him.

Yes, it was weird. I can´t imagine how people would react to it. For others, Sherlock was only an unusual and impolite detective, which was in fact, true. But being so delicate and caring with a baby of a few months?

 _"Animals and children are not in my area of expertise… but I can make an effort for little Watson.”_ He said. Lies, he was an expert!

Although I like seeing a more human side of Sherlock, the fact that **he needs to rest was beyond question**.

So I confronted him about John´s behaviour. It´s not fair that he was a full-time babysitter, especially when his health is still _delicate_.

He said, _"John needs his time to process everything that happened to him ... let him be ... I can take care of Rosie without problems, my health can wait."_

But I wasn´t sure about this.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm very busy but I'll try to update next week.


	5. LITTLE WATSON

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sherlock discovers something about Rosie and now, he's scared.

_-Sherlock´s speaking-_

Lestrade has come. His face showed what I did not want to see: **worry** ; the worry that I do not deserve.

The main reason for his visit was obvious, he came for a case, but in the end, he only devoted himself reprimanding me about my health. He decided firmly that I will not be able to help him with any case until I completely _recover_ and that, at least, my aspect improve.

Reluctantly I accepted that my mind will not be occupied with any case for a while. Anyway, my mind is still busy with _Rosie_ , not that I am bored all the time as before. I decided to keep concentrating on **Rosamund**. The cases and my health were secondary for now. People will continue to die even when I solve crimes or not, and my body is only a **transport** to this world.

Speaking of Rosie ... she is growing fast. It is interesting how the human grew so disproportionately without one noticing it. At first, she seemed so small, so weak and ... a **stranger** to me. Little by little her motor skills are improving, and although she still needs to learn how to speak, it will not be long for her to do so.  

Or at least that's what I thought.

One day she began to _babble_ ; she seemed to try to say something, something that others may not be able to understand but I am Sherlock Holmes, and of course, I do understand ~~(yes, sometimes, even premature language of babies.)~~

 And I was **scared**.

I was afraid for the first time. A strong fear... I was more afraid than the time I thought of dying tortured without the possibility of seeing John again. It was a different fear. Not a fear of death, no. It was a fear of loss, but a kind of loss that entails **trust and friendship**.

Rosie was trying to say a word, that if said so, it would change everything.

She was trying to say ** _"Dad"_**

This word meant two things:

First, Rosie sees me as her father figure. _Impossible and unacceptable._

Secondly, Rosie does not recognize John as her father, leaving evidence of his _carelessness_ towards his daughter. Not that I am blaming him, obviously, but evidence is evidence.

The days passed and I could only implore that little Watson does not say that damn word; much better, _not to say it even with the presence of John_.

I do not want to imagine his reaction. I can tolerate his fists and his insults towards me, but **never his absence**. I tried to survive without him for two bloody years and I will not try anymore.

 

_I no longer have the strength for it._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I´m so sorry that it´s an extremely short chapter! My job does n´t let me breathe :(
> 
> P.S.  
> I would like to follow people on twitter to share similar things!  
> It includes Sherlock Holmes (obviously), Kuroshitsuji, classic and Victorian novels, languages, fashion and veganism.
> 
> See you soon!


	6. WEDDING ANNIVERSARY

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “It was your fault she died! She saved your life, but is it really worth the life of a junkie?”
> 
> I said nothing. There was not much to say, the truth was stated.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'll be honest, my situation is as follows:  
> I'm going through a hard time, I suffer from depression and at this point, I don't feel like writing that much. I don't want to leave the job unfinished, I truly understand how frustrating it is to read something incomplete. 
> 
> To the few who follow this story, please be patient.

_-Sherlock´s speaking-_

When John decides to drink from his whiskey, it means he will not be sober all night. On many occasions, he comes back from the bar overly drunk and he just sits there quietly and stares at nothing. But this time is different. I can sense it, and for the first time, _I feel like I have to protect John more than ever_.

 

**Today is John and Mary's first wedding anniversary.**

 

Of course, there is nothing to celebrate. They were not even able to complete the year together. John did his routine, as usual, ignoring - _or trying to ignore_ \- the fact that it is his wedding anniversary. He knows very well what day it is today, just as he knows very well the date of the death of his late wife.

 

In the morning, he tried to get close to Rosie but he failed to do so. All at once, the girl is practically the image of her mother. He did not eat, he just drank coffee; unusual of him, his weak point was always the food; then he went to work, and I have not heard from him all day. My routine did not change much either: I fed Rosie, bathed and changed her, played with her and eventually I got her to sleep. That day Mr Hudson was not in Baker Street and _I believe it was convenient for the following reasons_.

 

It was night, late enough to start worrying about John. I wonder whether he was planning to come or not, since the closest conclusion is to drink all night at a nearby bar crying over his wife's death, again.  **But I was not like that**.

 

I do not normally sleep very often but lately, _tiredness_ is gaining on me. After Rosie fell asleep, I tried to concentrate on my experiments but eventually, I leaned my head on the sofa and I just fell asleep. However, my placid dream lasted only a short time. **A loud noise woke me up**. It was 3:43 and on my head, there were two options: either it was John or someone resembling a burglar.

 

_“John?”_

 

I got no answers.

 

It was not part of me to worry; it was not the first time I was close to the same situation with criminals. I faced criminals of all sorts, **common burglars, serial killers, gangsters, and mentally insane ones.** But now is all different since I´ve got _Rosie_ under my care. I remained vigilant to any threat. **I would not allow another Watson to be hurt. Not ever again.**

 

Surprisingly, John sneaks out. I do not need to be a genius to know that he had been drinking. A lot.

 

_“Oh John, it was you.”_

 

_“Why are you here?”_

 

_“What do you mean? It is our flat.”_

 

_“No- no! Why you??”_

 

_“John, you'd better if-“_

 

_“Why isn't Mary here but you are?”_

 

_“John…”_

 

_“It was your fault she died! She saved your life, but is it really worth the life of a junkie?”_

 

**I said nothing. There was not much to say, the truth was stated.**

 

_“Answer me you bastard!”_

 

_“I´m so-“_

 

 _“Don´t. Don´t you dare._ _Stop it right now or I´ll kill you myself.”_

 

_“I´m sorry.”_

 

As soon as I finished saying those words, I felt a sharp **punch** to my face. The punch was so strong that I fell down onto the floor. I started bleeding from the corner of my mouth. I had no time to wipe off the blood that I felt a kick to my stomach.

 

 **Another kick** , more punches, _slaps and scratches_. 

 

I was feeling dizzy, and I decided not to fight back. _If this was John's way of releasing all his anger, distress and tension, then so be it._

 

A few minutes passed, and John falls to the floor. I leaned over to his side concerned but he just fainted. _Sometimes, Alcohol has its advantages._

 

**I was unable to sleep again.**


	7. AN ALCOHOLIC AND ABUSIVE.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "I was hesitant to ask because I was afraid of the answer. Maybe it wasn't me. No, it was probably me."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm a bit better, so I'll gradually update this story!

_-John´s speaking-_

 

I opened my eyes and I found myself on the sofa rather than in my room. I woke up with a strong headache. A **hangover** , I thought. Great, I was drinking again. I didn't have time to think twice that I remembered I was supposed to go to work. **07:45 a.m.** I was going to be very late!

 

_“Don't worry; I took the liberty of calling your workplace so you don't have to go today.”_

 

Sherlock was in the kitchen feeding Rosie a disgusting porridge of carrots? Orange? Pumpkin?

 

_“Oh. Um, thanks.”_

 

_“All in due time, John.”_

 

Of course, Sherlock knew I was drinking. You don't have to be a genius to figure it out. Then I realized that on the front table was my cup with freshly made coffee.

 

_“You made it?”_

 

_“Yep.”_

 

_“You didn't poison it or something, did you?”_

 

_“Not this time.”_

 

_“Ok, if you say so…How did you know I was going to wake up? The coffee could have gotten cold.”_

 

He didn't answer me; he was too busy feeding Rosie. I grabbed the cup feeling the warmth of coffee right away, and so I decided to relax as I listened to Sherlock and Rosie spending time together.

 

_“All right, Rosie, you're a pretty clever little girl. This time you managed to keep the food in your mouth and not on the floor.”_

 

It was surreal. The scene of my best friend taking care of my daughter with such affection never crossed my mind.  

 

But there was something that was bothering me. From breakfast till midday, **Sherlock didn't turn to see me once.** It seemed like he was trying to _avoid my face_. I began to sweat. I didn't do anything while I was drunk, did I?

 

_“Sherlock.”_

 

_“Yes, John?”_

 

_“Look at me.”_

 

_“Not now!  Rosie needs a change.”_

 

_“Sherlock.”_

 

For a moment I saw how he tensed up, but he turned over casually as if nothing had happened.

 

And I saw it. I saw a rather **red bruise** between the corners of his lips, a **scratch** near his neck and on his forehead a **light colour** that would probably later turn into another bruise.

 

_“What happened to you?”_

 

I was hesitant to ask because I was afraid of the answer. Maybe it wasn't me. No, **it was probably me**.

 

_“Oh, this? Yesterday I had an encounter with a murderer on a case, nothing serious, just a few blows.”_

 

_“I didn't know you went on a case yesterday. Wait, and Rosie went with you?”_

 

_“Of course not, I would never dare endanger Rosie. Mrs. Hudson was kind enough to take care of her for a few hours.”_

 

_“I see…”_

 

That's bullshit. In my head, I couldn't help thinking: _it was me who hit my friend_ **again _._**

_I have the same genetics as my father. **I´m an alcoholic and abusive.**  _

 

 

I tried to avoid the subject all day, just as I tried to convince myself that what Sherlock said was true.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm too weak, so weak that I can only remain in bed. The good thing is that at least I won't go to work for a few days.
> 
> I have two more stories to finish. Honestly, I'm liking more the story I'm creating about Sherlock the Jewish violinist and John the Nazi commander, haha!


	8. I SAW RED.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Those harsh words sounded on my head for days. I refused to cry, it was a fact and I had to accept it."

_-Sherlock´s speaking-_

 

When John returned home in a drunken state, what hurt me the most was not his punches at me, but what he said to me.

 

_“It was your fault she died! She saved your life, but is it really worth the life of a junkie?”_

 

Those harsh words sounded on my head for days. **I refused to cry** , it was a fact and I had to accept it.

 

I had a _nightmare_. First, I dreamt I was in Serbia. There, I was in a kind of warehouse where I was being tortured. I was only thinking about John while my tears threatened to come out.  Then I saw Mary fall to the floor, her eyes wide open and lifeless. And finally, an unhappy John. A John who isolated himself from everyone, even from his daughter, so that he could forget what I caused.

 

I tried to ignore this mind of mine that was only being cornered by impulses. I shouldn't, I couldn't. I couldn't do this to Mary; I couldn't do this to John.

 

Getting high was out of the question, no matter how much I need it right now. I was by no means going to let John get hurt, much less Rosie. I had to find something that could calm my mind but that was not a threat to the little Watson's safety.

 

I am no longer solving cases, and I can no longer get high. I thought, what other solution do I have to calm my mind?

 

I simply could no longer bear this mind full of agony and guilt. **Guilt was devouring me.**

 

As I was touching my temple in a circular motion, I dropped my arms and I saw my pale hands. I remembered something from my early teen years, something that helped me at the time, at least before I discovered the marvellous effects of drugs.

 

I had no second thoughts; this was the only solution so far. It would not harm Rosie because I will be clean, and John would not notice anything about it _\- neither do I think he cares as long as Rosie is safe around me.-_

 

It was late at night; both John and Rosie were sleeping soundly. I went to the bathroom making sure the door was tightly closed. I looked at myself in the mirror. I grabbed the razor that John often uses to shave his beard, and I put it on my wrist. I closed my eyes, I inhaled deeply and I applied some pressure with the sharp blade.

 

 **I saw red.** I felt a sharp pain, and then there was a _calm feeling_.

 


	9. WORDS OF A FRIEND

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lestrade shows up.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know I make the chapters too short, but I´ve got a problem with this story. I don't like the way it's looking, I´ve got a lot of grammar mistakes compared to my other writings. I don't really know why.

_-Lestrade´s speaking-_

 

I decided to visit Sherlock to give him a new case. I knew he had to recover, but the case didn't require him to leave Baker Street. The first visit, I greeted the landlady ~~(I don't remember her name, but they call her Mrs Hudson)~~ but there were no more words than that. **Sherlock didn't look good at all.**

 

_“Oh, don't start.”_

 

_“But I didn't say anything!”_

 

_“I already have enough of Mrs Hudson and her concern syndrome to have you joining a group.”_

 

_“Well, it would help a little if you didn't look like you jumped off a building.”_

 

_“I jumped two years ago though.”_

 

_“Yeah, but back then you didn't look so crappy.”_

 

I made it clear: he had to recover or there would be no more cases for him. I knew that his mind wouldn't resist without the cases, so he has to recover fully first.

 

On the second visit, the landlady talked to me. It was a brief talk, but she made clear what I feared most, Sherlock wasn't making progress on his health. This time, he looked worse. With messy hair, bags under his eyes, skinny (more than normal), pale and he seemed weak (maybe he was just being lazy but you never know with this man). John's little daughter was sitting on his lap, but there was no sign of the doctor.

 

_“I told you to take care of your health. It's not too difficult, Sherlock! You just have to sleep, eat well, relax and I don't know, take a shower from time to time!”_

 

_“Hey! Don't let my appearance fool you, I do bathe! I wouldn't be holding the girl if I didn't.”_

 

_“Well, let's discard the shower and now take care of everything else I've told you!”_

 

_“I´m fine. You worry about nothing. I heard you were talking to Mrs Hudson, she's a bad influence, don't listen to her. She will have dementia in 6 years.”_

 

**Talking to Sherlock was like talking to a wall.**

 

_“And John?”_

 

_“He´s working.”_

 

_“But it's already 19:21 p.m.”_

 

_“He decided to work overtime.”_

 

_“Overtime? And he lets you take care of the kid?”_

 

_“I'm offended that you believe I'm not capable of taking care of a child.”_

 

_“Well, considering you can't take care of yourself, I have reason to think so.”_

 

_“Oh, shut up. I solve the most difficult crimes for your stupid team; taking care of a child is a piece of cake. “_

 

_“I think it's inconvenient anyway. Sherlock, I don't want you to take this the wrong way, I know you're capable of many things, but...”_

 

_“But, what?”_

 

_“You look like shit. You have to take care of yourself and John is the one who should be taking care of his daughter and his best friend as well rather than doing overtime.”_

 

_“John's not my babysitter!”_

 

_“As well as you're not Rosie's babysitter, aren’t you?”_

 

_“I'm just doing him a favour, Robert. His wife is dead, he needs time.”_

 

_“It's Greg! And his wife died over four weeks ago. I don't know what's going on through his head, but let me tell you this as another friend, this is not good.”_

 

_“Four weeks is too soon to recover from grief. I'm not as bad as I look; I only take care of Rosie when he can't.”_

 

Again, talking to Sherlock was like talking to a wall. If nothing improves, my only solution is to have a few words with John, **and not as his friend.**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading this piece of 345sdfsdf :D


	10. THE SECOND TIME

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rosie's birthday is coming up.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I forgot to mention that in the previous chapter, Lestrade visits Sherlock before the part when John comes home drunk (for the first time) and hits him, therefore he did not mention any of the dubious bruises on the face of our beloved detective.

_-Sherlock´s speaking-_

 

Rosie's birthday was approaching. The girl was clearly attached to me. If she cries, her consolation is a stroke to her hair while I talk near her in the ear, if she is happy, she likes to play with my skull friend, and if she is bored she likes to pull out my hair. This would be a special occasion, but it is not for John.

 

**The second time John came home drunk, everything got a little out of hand.**

 

_“Rosie should be celebrating her birthday together with her mum. Where's her mother? Tell me!”_

 

_“Please John, Rosie's sleeping and Mrs Hudson-“_

 

_“No, you shut up!!”_

 

_“…”_

 

_“It's unfair; she's going to have a birthday with you instead of with Mary!”_

 

 **I did not see it coming.** I also did not feel it. I did not feel when John threw a glass at me, nor did I feel the cut near my left eyelid. Some of the glass got stuck onto my scalp, and it was almost a miracle that I did not receive a deep cut on the eye.

It took more time for John to settle down than last time. I was sure he wanted to throw something else at me, but he just punched at the wall with rage and then he went to the bathroom. Unfortunately, Rosie woke up crying. I had no second thoughts and I went to hold her back to make her sleep again. Before going to Rosie's room (my room actually), Mrs Hudson knocked on the door. It was not a lucky day.

 

_“Sherlock? John? Is something wrong? Are you all right? Did Rosie get hurt or something?”_

 

_“Nothing serious happened, Mrs Hudson. I had a little accident and I woke Rosie up, go back to sleep!”_

 

_“Do you need help? Because I can-“_

 

_“No! No, I'm fine. Sorry but I should go to put Rosie to sleep again.”_

 

_“All right... Good night dear.”_

 

 

I was able to put Rosie to sleep after 15 minutes. I stroked Rosie's hair as she likes it while she grabbed my arm tightly. It did not take long for both of us to fall asleep.  Stupid of me, I forgot to clean off the blood and to collect the glass pieces on the floor.


	11. REALIZING.

_-John´s speaking-_

The cell phone alarm started ringing loudly. **06:00 a.m.** I still have enough time to go to work. I open my eyes slightly, and I realize that this time I'm in my room, good.  Little by little I get memories of last night and my breath as well as my light headache, confirm it: **I was drinking again.** I don't really remember the exact reason why I drank yesterday. Sometimes I drink because I can't bear the loss of my wife, or because my life is a mess, other times I just want to drink just because if.

 

I move out of my room to do my bland daily routine; to make a quick breakfast, to have a cup of coffee or tea, to read the newspaper, to bathe, to brush my teeth, to change my clothes and to go out to the clinic.  I didn't expect to go out to find such a scene. There was glass scattered all over the living room and what's worse, **blood**. _I paled._ I was confused, I couldn't understand at the time but when I saw blood I only thought of Rosie and Sherlock. Did someone break in? Did Sherlock get hurt doing some experiment? I ran quickly to my friend's room and I found the pair curled up in bed. I sighed for a moment. I came near them, my heart was able to start beating properly again. **Or at least until I saw it.** There was blood on the pillow, blood coming from Sherlock. The blood was already dry and it seemed to be coming from his head, more specifically from his forehead and his left eyelid.

 

_“John?”_

 

Sherlock woke up; he glanced at Rosie and smiled. Then he stretched out his body with his arms lifted.

 

_“John, do you need anything? It's early yet, Rosie doesn't eat at this hour.”_

 

_“Oh my…”_

 

He looked confused.

 

_“What are you…- Oh-“_

 

He saw the blood on his hands. It was not a river of blood but it was enough to know that he was injured. Sherlock didn't say anything and he didn't even look me straight into my eyes, and then I understood.

 

**I was the one who caused this.**


	12. I FUCKED UP.

_-John´s speaking-_

 

I didn't know what to do other than just apologize. Apologize, yeah sure.

 

What use was an apology? What was done was already done.

 

Sherlock still didn't look me, he simply said: _"its okay John, it's okay, it's just a cut."_

 

I had to get ready for work, but I didn't want to. **Or maybe I did, I wanted to leave so I wouldn't face the truth.**

 

_“I’ m sorry Sherlock, I don't understand what happened to me. I was really drunk, you know that right? It wasn't on purpose."_

 

_“Now, John, I already said it's okay.”_

 

_“Well... yeah... I think I should go to work right now. Sorry, I won't do it again.”_

 

Ridiculous. Simply ridiculous. I collected the broken glass and I wiped the blood. _The blood of my friend._

 

I leave early; I didn't get to bathe or to eat breakfast. I only brushed my teeth fast and I left.

 

At work, I could only think: **shit, I fucked up.**


	13. I AM FINE

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sherlock's thoughts after what happened.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm not exactly enjoying writing this story, or at least I'm not enjoying it enough. I will leave it on hold for at least a week or two.

_-Sherlock´s speaking-_

 

When I saw John in my room, I knew the day was going to start out somewhat differently than usual. His face was screaming that something was not right. Rosie seemed safe and sound, I did not understand until I saw my hands and the pillow covered with blood. Oh, now I remember. When the Doctor left the place, I was able to think clearly. This is the second time that John has arrived drunk with an uncontrollable attitude. But I thought it is all right. Everything is truly fine. It is not the first time I have been hit, it is not the first time I have seen my own blood too. I said I had no right to feel sad, much less angry at my friend's behaviour. To begin with, this would not have happened if I had not been responsible for Mary's death. If she were alive, John would not be drinking and none of this would be happening. Self-pity is not likeable to me, but that is better than making my friend feel guilty about something he does not deserve to feel guilty about.

 

**I am fine. I am ~~not~~  fine.**

 

When there is a murder case, usually there is more concern for the predictable in sight than for the minor details. Details which are not in plain sight are always the most important. Always. I can notice those details. For instance, when John rubs his hands on his thighs it is because he is either nervous or hesitant when he eats less, he is worried about something, when he wakes up sweaty, he had a nightmare, and when he touches his ring, it means he misses Mary.

At 12, I started having self-harming behaviours. First, I started scratching badly and non-stop until my skin became reddish. Then I started having "accidents" when I was carrying out my experiments when the reality was that I wanted an excuse to hurt myself. Finally, at 14, I started cutting myself. I always showed the details that indicated that there was something wrong with me. The details, small but still details were visible. My parents never were able to grasp them and my brother, the same one who always said he was the smartest, took years to notice each one of those details. I do not recall why I started this destructive behaviour with myself, and frankly, I am not interested in knowing it either. One time my brother told me that people make the same mistakes because they do not think with their brains but with their hearts.  **Emotions are a double-edged sword, it is a weapon that can protect you but hurt you at the same time.**  For that very reason, when I was upset by the extremely painful words that others said to me, I simply waited to get home to lock myself in my room and then I would cry quietly. When I felt happy, I tried not to be so obvious about it. Even though I wanted my parents to play with me, I knew it was a nuisance to interrupt their work. And so I survived for many years, hiding my emotions. Now I began to think that the cuts and the drugs were an outlet for those compressed feelings. At 16, my brother found me high. He already knew about my drug addiction from previous years, but he never learned about my cuts because I managed to hide them from everyone. I never saw my brother like that before. He used to tell me _"caring is not an advantage"_ but that rule was not applied that day. I noticed his fear and a hint of guilt in him. He made me promise I would never cut myself again, and I kept it that way. However, it was difficult to stop using drugs. I was unable to survive without cutting myself therefore not using drugs was out of the question. 

 

 _"I'm fine"_  I used to say (and I still do) when the reality is that want to scream that  **I am not fine** , that I want to end all this incomprehensible chest pain. I am not okay when they look at me with disdain, I am not okay when they call me a freak, and I am not okay when John ignores me. Is it wrong that I am not all right? I am also a human being even if I do not seem to be like. I can also cry, laugh and get angry as everybody else.

 

Caring is certainly not an advantage, but it is always the exception when it comes to John.


	14. LOVE AND MANIPULATION

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mrs Hudson is old but not stupid.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've resurfaced! 
> 
> Please, I know that I insist with my grammar and that maybe you are not even interested in this subject, you just want to enjoy the story, but I swear that my grammar is not as bad as it seems. I cannot understand why I am making so many mistakes in this story! Is it because I change from formal to informal with the characters? uncertain.
> 
> April is coming to an end, next week I will be 24 years old! that day I will update the story of Sherlock the Jewish violinist in the Nazi concentration camp and I will continue with the Omegaverse story that had a good acceptance (I must admit that I enjoy writing that one)
> 
> I still have not decided the end of it... at least another 5 chapters are needed and I think I will finish it. For the moment, thank you for reading!

_-Mrs Hudson´s speaking-_

 

I'm an old woman, but **I'm not stupid**. My age states that I went through a lot of different experiences, and one thing life taught me is that **love doesn't always work the way we think it should.** All people, even those closest to Sherlock, think that he’s a _cold, unkind, unsympathetic and heartless_ man, but he's not like that at all; that description is ideal for his older brother, but not for Sherlock. He decided to help me with my little account with my ex-husband, a violent, abusive and unfaithful man. He was even able to seriously hurt the American who attacked me in the flat; they would have to see it, that day _he was furious_. 

 

My first impression when I met Sherlock was that he was a grown-up child, but a _child with a deep fear_ , afraid to express love for others. Sherlock is like a turtle or a snail, an animal so vulnerable that the only way it can protect itself is to use a hard shell. He seems incapable of showing affection, but I can notice those little actions in order to do me some good; yes, Sherlock is messy, noisy, and a danger to his own well-being, but he also tries not to make too much of a mess when my hips hurt and so to prevent me from cleaning up, he makes no sound at naptime or when I have headaches, and he has never put me into danger.

 

When Sherlock seemed to be in his worst moments, I thought John could calm him down, that he would be good for his overall health. **Sherlock loves John** , I must mention again that I' m old but not stupid. **Love is unpredictable** , you can fall in love with anyone and without prior notice, and love is not exclusive to anyone, even for the wild detective. _I thought John was what Sherlock needed_ , and that's why I got **angry**. When I saw bruises on the detective's face, I was shocked; maybe it was nothing, I thought. But the second time was different, I heard a crash noise in the late hours of the night, Rosie was crying and a desperate Sherlock, and I knew there were no such coincidences, he was clearly being beaten. I suffered the same thing too; I understand very well what is the _manipulation_ of someone whom you love with your whole being; I was completely in love with my former husband, I was so silly. At first, we were a charming couple; he was jealous, but I thought it was a demonstration of love; it was forbidden to hang out with my friends when I wanted to, I couldn't wear certain clothes because I "seduced other men", and I accepted it. When we got married, his attitude didn't change, but _worsened_ ; he managed to separate me from my friends and family, and I was left alone at his mercy. Then the **blows** , he started hitting me for simple things, for being late, for not making the food, for answering him... _and right after he hit me, he started crying and he kept saying that he didn't want to do it_ , that it was my fault to make him angry. **That bastard, I loved him and hated him with all my heart.**

 

John's temperamental and he gets pissed by simple things. Well, Sherlock is a hard-ass to deal with but you have to understand that his personality is a bit complicated, he's not a bad person and he doesn't realize it right away when it comes to manners and social interactions.

 

I decided not to be the only witness to this tragedy, and I sought help. Last time, I looked to John for help but for obvious reasons, he couldn't be this time. So, I decided that the best option is the detective inspector who contacts Sherlock with the complicated cases to solve _ ~~(I got his number the last time he came to visit.)~~ _I didn't decide to contact the Holmes brother, he disgusts me and I'll never be able to sympathize with the Iceman.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I never had a partner and I do not even expect to have one (asexual and aromantic over here! yes, we exist) but I had several friends and relatives, including my own mother, who suffered from toxic relationships. You can do more than that, do not seek half-love because of intolerable loneliness.


	15. NOT A CHAPTER, Author's notes.

**Hello everyone! How are you? I hope you are well, life is hard, I know.**

  
**I will briefly tell my situation, all, absolutely all of my Johnlock / Sherlock stories will be on hiatus for at least five months ~~(or maybe until the end of the year.)~~**

 

**I don't want to give up my stories, and I certainly won't, but I won't finish them for a while.**

 

**I have no excuses, I'm just a little tired of the Sherlock fandom, I'm still devoted to Conan Doyle and I still like the BBC series, but I don't feel inspired.**

 

 

**At the moment I'm pretty attached to Spiderman, Iron Man and the Avengers... Oops.**

 

 

**I feel you deserved to know something about it, I'm still alive! ~~please don't sentence me to death~~   **

 

**Good luck to all. Someday I will return! If I feel inspired, I will at least finish this story.**

 

**Again, sorry!**

**Author's Note:**

> The story is told by several characters, not only by John! 
> 
> It is also dedicated to a friend of mine who had a toxic ex-friend who later on became an abusive boyfriend. She was murdered three years ago by him. I would have liked her to read it but unfortunately, it is what it is.
> 
> P.S.  
> I'll try to update at least twice a week! I don't promise anything!


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